


A Hero Named Skurge

by vinniebatman



Series: An Alien Named Mercutio [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Darcy Lewis, Cunnilingus, Darcy Lewis Is a Good Bro, Darcy Lewis is the fandom bicycle and I love it, F/M, Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Spoilers, references to cunnilingus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-03 16:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinniebatman/pseuds/vinniebatman
Summary: It's been six weeks, and Darcy just can't get stop thinking about Skurge.  But Darcy and Jane are headed back to the States, so there's plenty to keep her busy. At least until they get kidnapped. As Darcy would Say: f**k my life.Note: this story is the original sequel to "An Alien Named Mercutio."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beetle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/gifts).



> For the sake of clarification, please note that part 1 of this series took place in early October. 
> 
> I will be trying to take it easy on spoilers, but there a may be some small ones, so be warned.
> 
> And once again, much thanks and love to beetle. You are the best.

“You know, I don’t really have that much here,” Darcy said, “but I am kinda freaking out.  I mean, if I forget something here, I can’t just drive back and get it.  And I have even more stuff than when I came here, Jane.  I am at the end of the world, how can there be more?  How is that even possible?”

“Evil pixies, Darcy. Nasty, evil, reverse pixies.”

Darcy snorted.  “You’re so scientific, Jane.”

“Hey!” Jane marched into Darcy’s room. “How else could you scientifically explain all of my lost socks and research notes?”  Jane tried to look serious, but the grin on her face ruined it.  “Besides, you got all the equipment and notes packed up, so it’s just our room.  And at least there’s less to move than when we left from London.”

At that memory, Darcy shuddered.  “I still have nightmares about that.”

Laughing, Jane returned to her room.  Darcy moved into the bathroom and began pulling out her toiletries, setting them in plain sight for the morning's final packing.  It was five days until Thanksgiving, and the research station was going insane.  The helo had arrived yesterday and had begun transporting cargo to the ship docked on the coast.  In the morning, the majority of the station’s personnel would switch out with the personnel working Antarctica’s summer season.

“Hey Darcy?” Jane called, “why do I have a dress?”

Darcy snorted in laughter. “Because I packed it for you.”

“Okay. Why?”

“Because the info packets we got before we left the northern hemisphere said, and I quote, ‘all personnel traveling to Antarctica for the duration of the station’s spring research period should bring one semi-formal ensemble.’”

Jane fell silent for a moment. “We got information packets?”

“Yes, Jane. Remember, you used it to write notes about local topography for the antenna placement?”

“Oh, right. But why were we supposed to bring fancy clothes?”

“I don't know. I’d figured they were going to record some interviews or something.”

“Did I miss the interviews?”

“No.”

“Oh. Good.”

As the two women continued organizing and packing their personal belongings, the station’s announcement system crackled to life.

“Hello, my icicles! It is I, your fearless leader, Tony Stark. I am not here right now, because hero stuff. But you are all amazing in your dedication to science and your willingness to come to what is literally the end of the earth.  As a token of my gratitude, please be in the dining room at 7:00 tonight for a ‘good work and goodbye’ dinner party. I've hired a Michelin awarded chef from Buenos Aires, and a catering staff to set up and serve the dinner so _all_ of you can relax and have fun. This includes you, Inge-Lise!  

“Formalish attire will be required, so hopefully you paid attention to the wardrobe suggestions in the station briefing you received before coming here. Oh, and the dining room will be closed from 3:00 until the party starts, so, you know, be prepared for that. Have fun, but not too much. Remember: you have a boat trip in the morning. Tony Stark out.”

Jane and Darcy’s suite was suddenly silent, neither of them moving.

“Jane?”

“Yeah, Darce?”

“Our boss is insane, and I kinda love it.”

“Totally.”

* * *

 

The dining room was beautiful. The overhead lights had been turned off, the room lit only by the glow of candles and fairy lights. The tables had been arranged casually and covered in nice linens, bottles of wine waiting for the diners.  The serving counter had been pushed to the wall, a variety of beer and wine available.  Overhead, jazz murmured out of the PA system.  It was perfect for a goodbye party.

Darcy and Jane had dressed similar outfits: simple dresses with thick leggings and sweaters.  It wasn’t a fancy ensemble, but it looked nice and, more importantly, was warm.  

“Well whaddaya know, Jane, we’re _early_.”

“It’s a lot harder to get distracted when all my stuff is in crates,” the scientist acknowledged.  

Spotting Daniel, Darcy and Jane crossed the room to sit by him.  Romero and Church were already seated at the table, and smiled at the two women in greeting.

“Hey, Darce, how are you?” Daniel asked.  His smile was wide and warm, the facial expression the equivalent of a bear hug. _Thank god for Daniel_.

“Lewis, Foster” Romero said, nodding once.   _Talkative as always._ He moved to the table beside theirs, allowing the women room to sit together.

“Hey Lewis; where’d your crutches go?”  Church asked.  He politely shifted over a chair, allowing Darcy and Jane to sit across from each other. Of course, that also stuck Darcy beside Church. _Well, he has been significantly less douche-tastic lately._

“Zheng gave me the all clear, so no more crutches for Darcy,” she replied.

“Congrats.  Should make chasing after Foster easier,” Church added.  Seated facing the door, his eyes darted up each time someone entered.   _Looking for Brit._ It was a strange thing, but ever since that Sunday when Darcy had interrupted Brit’s macking on Mercutio, there’d been a peace between them.   _But it could also be the fear of god Mercutio put in him._   _Shit, Skurge.  His name is Skurge._  

Darcy forced her thoughts back the discussion topic at hand.  “Oh yeah, much easier.    Especially when I have to physically drag her from the lab.”

“Hey, I am perfectly capable of managing my own sleep schedule!” Jane protested.

The security guards and Darcy stared at her, disbelief plain on their faces.

“Or you could just call Kwan,” Romero suggested, grinning. “He can carry her out for you.”

At the sight of Romero’s sexy, adorable grin, Darcy’s stomach did nothing.  For over a month, Rafael Romero had been her station crush, the object of her short-term lust, until—.  Darcy cut off that line of thinking.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.  “Eh, won’t work.  Because sure, Jane is out of the labs, but if David takes her to bed, she’s not getting any sleep,” she pointed out.

Jane dropped her head to table with a petulant moan.  “I hate all of you, and hope you all get second degree sunburns on your genitals.”

Darcy threw her head back and laughed, while Church and Daniel winced.  Romero merely chuckled, shaking his head before taking a deep drink from his beer bottle.  Two months ago, Darcy would have saved the memory of that sexy grin for her happy alone fun time.  But now? It wasn't the grin she missed.

 _Nothing. I feel nothing._ Darcy reached for an open bottle of Reisling sitting on the table.  While Romero and Daniel had opted for beer, Darcy followed Church’s example and filled hers and Jane’s wine glasses all the way.  She focused on the task, trying to banish the image of Skurge smiling sweetly after trying her spiked cocoa.  It didn’t work; his smile lingered in her mind, Darcy could hear that sad sound Pac Man made when he died.

_Stupid hot alien._

The group sat and chatted, sipping their drinks; eventually, David Kwan joined them, but the table was full.

“Guys?” David wasn’t a particularly verbose person, and watching him communicate through expression only with Romero was kind of hilarious.  All this conversation comprised of was David tapping the table and tilting his head. Romero nodded and pushed the tables together.  David dropped into the seat beside Jane.  His arm went around her shoulders, and he leaned in to press a kiss on her cheek.  Jane smiled at him, her cheeks pink from the wine and joy; it was a disgustingly adorable display.

“Sorry I’m late,” David said, “but I had a meeting with Mr. Hogan.”

“What, something wrong?” Church asked.

“No, everything is fine,” he said, smiling.  He looked at Jane, the smile widening.  “Everything’s great.”  

Darcy narrowed her eyes; there was a secret in that smile.  “Kwan: spill it.” Darcy ordered.  David opened his mouth, likely to change the subject. Darcy picked the closest utensil and menacingly pointed the fork at him.  “I will cut you, Kwan. SPILL.”

David poured himself a glass of wine, grinning sheepishly.  “I got a promotion.  Director of security for Stark Industries, North Eastern research division.  I’ll be checking, modifying, and supervising various labs in the North East.”  Kwan’s eyes darted over to Jane.   _Must include the Cherry Springs._  Darcy was happy for Jane, happy that she had a guy who would make her a priority. _It’s about damn time._  But it also made her feel more alone.   _I really need to get laid_.

“Dude, that’s great!” Church said, raising his beer bottle in a toast.

As Daniel and Romero congratulated him, Brit entered the room, dressed in a sleek, grey sweater dress.  Church was engrossed in conversation with Daniel, missing his chance.  With a huff, Darcy elbowed him.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you, Church,” she hissed quietly.  Church looked away from his conversation to shoot Darcy a confused frown.  Darcy stood and waved at Brit.  “Hey, Brit, come join us!”

Brit smiled widely and nodded at her, weaving her way around the tables.  Darcy quickly moved to the open seat beside David, and propped her feet on the empty chair by Romero.  As Brit settled into the only open chair, Church shot Darcy a grateful smile.  They were actually a cute looking couple.  

_Hopefully someone will get lucky._

* * *

 

The next morning, Darcy awoke to her phone’s alarm.  She lay in the dark, taking stock.

 _Okay, nausea? No.  Headache? Mild. Not too bad for 3 glasses of wine and a couple of beers._  

It was going to be a long 48 hours.  First, there would be a helo trip to the boat, then the boat would ferry them to Tierra del Fuego, where they’d catch a flight to Buenos Aries, then a flight to JFK, where a last flight would take them to central Pennsylvania, and then a car would take them to their new home.  It would be exhausting.   _It’s gonna suck so hard._  Darcy stared into the darkness of her room.  In the dark her brain began playing tricks.  She could almost smell petrichor. _Everytime I’m in the dark here, all I can think about is Mercut — fuck, Skurge!_ Darcy grabbed a pillow and smothered her face.   _God damnit, brain, you do what I say!_  Darcy’s brain disobeyed her, instead choosing to replay Darcy’s makeout session in high-def.  But at least the feelings brought up could be fought with cold water.  The other memories of his smile and caring, gentle touches, those were harder to forget.

Sighing, Darcy reached over and turned on the light.  Her suitcases were waiting, one closed-up, the other waiting for the last few items.   _I am not going to miss living in a dark metal cave._  Rolling out of bed, she quickly dressed, then went to wash her face and brush her teeth, staring into the bathroom mirror.  After rinsing and spitting, she turned off the tap and started packing the last of her toiletries.  In the sudden quiet, she could hear soft sounds coming from Jane’s room - happy sounds.   _God damn, Kwan is like a machine.  I really don’t wanna interrupt their last morning together._  Darcy checked her watch; they only had an hour before they helo left.  Darcy knocked on Jane’s door.

“Sorry, guys, but we’ve got an hour before we have to leave, and Jane needs to eat.” She started to turn, then paused.  CAnd by that I mean food, David, she needs to eat _food_.”

As she left the bathroom and then her room, Darcy could hear David’s laugh and Jane’s outraged squawk. Out in the hallway, a door down the hall opened.  Church walked out, rumpled and smiling, followed by Brit.  Dressed only in a sweater, Brit gave Church a peck on the cheek, then went back into her room. Darcy joined Church, grinning at him as they walked through the facility.

“So, I take it you had a good night,” she teased.

Church grinned brightly.  “Yes, I did.”

“Cool, cool.  Is she leaving today?”

He shook his head, still smiling.  “Nope; she’s on a five-month project.”

“So, it’ll be you, her, and the frozen wastes?”

He chuckled.  “Yep.”

“Very romantic.”

“Hopefully.”

When they reached the security office, Church stopped while Darcy kept walking towards the dining room.

“Hey, Lewis?”

Darcy stopped and turned.  “Yeah?”

“Thanks for the assist last night.  And I’m sorry I was such a tool.”

Darcy frowned.  “Why were you such a tool.”

Church’s face reddened.  “I was jealous.”

 _Well that makes no sense._ “What? Why?”

“Brit and I were flirting the week before you and Foster got here.  But that first night, as soon as she saw you, all she could talk about was how cute you are.”

Her jaw dropped as she started to blush.   _Supermodel hot chick was into me?_  “Wait, Brit was into me?”

“Yeah, she thinks you’re pretty cute and clever.”  

Darcy blinked and closed her mouth.   _Damn_.  “Wow. So, I was like, the Brit to your Mercutio. I mean Skurge.”

Laughing, he wrinkled his brow.  “What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea.”  Darcy held her hand out, and Church shook it.  

“Take care, Lewis.”

“You too, Church.”

 _Damn, Brit was into me? Wow._ Darcy was still shaking her head when she walked into the dining room. The smell of Saturday breakfast was rich in the air, in spite of it being a Tuesday.  Darcy joined the line, pausing to survey the available selections.  Ful was sitting there in a pot, the spicy smell making her mouth water.  She frowned; she hadn’t had any in weeks, but it just smelled so good. _Fuck it._

She filled a bowl, grabbed some pita bread and a cup of coffee before sitting at an empty table.  Jane walked in five minutes later, dressed and pulling her hair into a braid.  By the time she brought her tray of food to the table, Darcy had half-finished her breakfast.

“So, funny thing,” Darcy started.  “Apparently, Chuch kinda hated me because he was jealous of me.”

Jane looked up, chewing slowly.  “Okay, there’s a lot about you to be jealous of, so what was his exact reason?”

“Apparently, Brit wanted some vitamin me.”

Jane’s eyebrows shot up, a thoughtful expression on her face.  “Yeah, I can see that she’d want you.”

“But what about you? Did you say goodbye to David?”

Jane gave Darcy a small smile. “Yeah.  He’s down here for another two weeks, then he starts his new job.”

“And then?”

“And then, we’ll see how we feel, but he’ll be coming by the lab a couple of times a month.”  Jane tried to suppress the happy grin on her face; it didn’t work.

“Ooohhh… someone’s in looooveee…. Jane and David, sittin’ in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N—”

“Darcy!”

* * *

 

“ _Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin our descent into JFK in few minutes.  Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins.  At this time, we ask that you please shut off your electronic devices. Thank you.”_

The announcement work Darcy up.  She was warm and comfortable, but still exhausted. _I never sleep well on planes._ She could hear the quiet drone of plane’s engines, the murmurs of other passengers, and the clicking of Jane’s keyboard.  Darcy yawned and stretched in her roomy seat.   _First class in amazing._

“Holy crap, I can never fly economy again,” she said.

Jane smiled, eyes glued to her laptop as she started to turn it off.  “I know; you said so on the flight down.”

Darcy stuck her tongue out at her boss, then pulled out her phone and checked her email one last time before shutting it off.   _Thank god for wifi._

Along with the usual sales fliers and account notifications, there was an email from her Mom. She opened it and made a sound halfway between an “aww” and a laugh.  It was a picture of Baker dressed in a little jacket, with a caption reading: “ _Baker is ready to be chauffeured to Bumfuck, PA._ ”

Jane made an enquiring sound, so Darcy showed her the picture.

Jane had never been one who found kids cute; instead, she found them more annoying and frustrating.  But animals?

“Aw, he’s so cute!”

“I know! I missed my buddy so much. But we’ll get to see him tonight!”

Jane began packing up her laptop.  “You know, I kinda feel bad for making your mom drive down with our personal items.”

“And my car. But she really wants to see the house we’ll be living in,” Darcy replied.  “I think it’s because she couldn’t exactly drive down to New Mexico or over to London.”

“Yeah, I get that. But I still feel like it's taking advantage of her.”

Darcy just shrugged. “I tried to tell her she didn't need to, but then she went all Mom and the next thing I knew, I had agreed.”

“I have long suspected your mother capable of harnessing the Force.”

Darcy laughed and shook her head. “Oh, and Mom has the rest of the week off through Thanksgiving, so we can drive her up to Syracuse on Saturday, then drive back down after.  What do you think?”

Jane pursed her lips in thought.  “Road trip rules?”

“Of course.”

“Then I am so with you.”

“Awesome.”

* * *

 It seemed to take forever for the plane to reach the gate.  By the time it did, most of the passengers were standing and ready to leave, eager to get off the plane after an eleven-hour flight.  There had been about twenty station personnel on the flight, and five of them would be flying on to Pennsylvania with Darcy and Jane.  When they disembarked, the found a group of smartly dressed flight attendants.  They were waiting just outside the carpeted area of the flight’s arrivals gate, one of them holding a sign that read “Stark Industries.”  Once all the Stark personnel had joined the waiting group, a male attendant clapped his hands.

“Hello everyone, my name is Jake, and welcome back to the United States, just in time for more snow,” he joked.  “There are four of us here, one for each destination.” He held up a leather folio before continuing.  “Each of us has the proper paperwork and customs forms you will need to help expedite your trip through customs.  Once we clear customs, if you’re heading to the Chicago labs, please follow Sarah.” One of the flight attendants raised her hand and stepped, smiling at the group.  One by one, Jake announced the attendants and their destinations: Asha for Manhattan, Alexis for Maine, and Jake for Pennsylvania.

“Now, once we clear customs, the Manhattan group will leave the airport, while the rest of us will be heading to a different terminal.  So just follow us and we’ll get you where you need to go.  Ms. Potts appreciates how stressful and exhausting your travels must have been, so to ensure the shortest wait and travel time, each group will be taking its own jet, while the Manhattan group will take chauffeured cars.  Any questions?”

The assembled personnel started murmuring excitedly.  First they’d flown first class, and now they got private planes.  Scientists usually didn’t live like this.

“Jane?”

“Yes?”

“I want to marry Tony Stark’s fringe benefits.”

“Me too. It'll be a summer wedding"

They giggled, exhaustion and an overall weariness from travel making them feel almost drunk.  Jake led them through customs, handing the TSA agents various work permits for the foreign personnel.  Once the entire group had cleared customs, they began to separate into groups.

“Dr. Foster?”  

Jane and Darcy stopped and looked around, eyes landing on two dark-suited men in sunglasses.  They looked very professional, but something was off. Hell, when the jack-booted thugs had bundled them off to Tromsø, they’d been straight forward and alert. But these guys seemed more sneaky. Darcy’s creep-o-meter started dinging as the men approached them.

“Dr. Foster, we’re Agents Barrow and Thomas from Homeland Security; we need you to come with us.”  The men flashed the credentials, too fast to see, then put them away and reached for Jane.   Jane looked at her, as nervous as Darcy felt.

Jake approached the agents, something wary and cold behind his genial smile.  “Hello, agents; Dr. Foster is scheduled for a flight and we need to get them to their destination. Are you taking her into custody? If not, she is contractually obligated to come with us.”

The agents looked at each other, then back at Jake. “Mr. Harris, if you interfere, you will be arrested for obstruction of justice.”  They opened their jackets, revealing handguns.  Three more suited men melted out of the crowd, just as humorless and alarming as the first two. “Dr. Foster?”

They gestured to the terminal’s entrance, their question a command.   _Shit, this is not good._  Darcy blinked.  “Well, I’m coming with you; if you need her to explain anything in human terms, then you’ll need me.” 

The agents paused, frowning behind their sunglasses. “Very well,” one of them said.  

Darcy and Jane followed the agents; as they moved away from the group, Darcy looked over her shoulder to see Jake on his phone.

“So, what is this about?” Darcy asked, looking at the stone-faced men surrounding them.  No one replied. _Fuck this._  Darcy tried to stop, but one them gripped Darcy’s elbow tightly, squeezing painfully, while another wrapped his hand around Jane’s upper arm.

“Keep moving, Ms. Lewis; we are armed and much better trained than anyone else in this airport. If either of you cause a scene or scream for help, innocent people will die.”

Darcy and Jane looked glanced at each other, their faces lined in thinly veiled fear.

_We’re boned._

* * *

 

Skurge stood at the window looking out across the Avenger’s facility, glowering.  He was locked in the room behind incredibly strong walls and windows, trapped.   _This place feels like a tomb, far more than that research station did._ Once again, Darcy’s sweet smile came to mind, and his heart ached.  He didn’t quite know what would hurt more: to never see Darcy again, or to see the disgust on her face when she learned of his cowardice.  His self-recriminations were cut of the chime of the elevator.  As soon as the doors opened, he could smell the man called “Happy”.  Skurge immediate felt alarmed.  Something was wrong.  Happy was nice man, friendly, but now the human’s heart was pounding, the sickly stink of fear coating him.  Skurge frowned.

“Something has happened?”

“Come with me.”  

Skurge said nothing, but followed silently into the elevator.  As the elevator began moving down, Happy spoke.  “Look, we don’t one hundred percent trust you, but we know that you really like Lewis.”

Skurge clenched his jaw. _That is not your concern._

“Mr. Stark is tracking the van, but someone claiming to be from the government took Jane and Darcy from the airport; we’re pretty sure they’ve been kidnapped.”

Rage boiled through him, a blade of icy fear stabbing at his heart.  He took a deep breath; trying to calm himself.  “Where is she?” he ground out.

The scent of fear in the air thickened.  He turned to look at the human, who had had paled and backed away from him.

“I dunno, but Mr. Stark said thinks you can help."

Skurge glowered at his reflection in the shiny elevator door.  He took slow, even breaths, centering himself. He felt his mind clearing, focusing on one objective: save Darcy.  He clenched his fists, rage simmering in his veins. He would save them, and then he would kill the men who touched his Darcy.


	2. Chapter 2

Darcy's heart was pounding as the pack of “agents” steered them though the airport. _No way these guys are actual agents. Unless they’re HYDRA agents, which means they’re nazis. Fucking nazis._ Darcy’s heart was racing, fingers trembling from a cocktail of terror and adrenaline.   _Keep it cool, Lewis, keep it cool._  Darcy took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.  She kept her head up, proud and unafraid even though inside, she was scared to death.  

She glanced over at Jane, whose eyes kept darting around the cavernous arrivals hall, plotting. When she glanced over at Darcy, their eyes met. Darcy looked down at the carry-on luggage in her hand, then at the laptop case Jane carried. _Oh, we could swing our stuff at them and make a run for it!_ Jane must have been on Darcy’s wavelength, because she jutted out her chin in that stubborn way she did and made an imperceptible nod.

But the nod must have been perceptible, because as soon as Darcy tensed to fight, Asshole 1, the bossy one, pulled her tight against himself.  He dug his gun, hard, into the vulnerable area below her ribcage, just over her kidney. She bit her lip to hold in a cry, biting until she tasted blood, keeping her eyes on Jane’s.

“If you try anything,” Bossy Asshole sneered, “I will put a bullet in the next kid I see, got it?”

Jane’s nostrils flared, rage dancing in her eyes.  With a glare, she dropped her laptop case to the floor and held her hand out to Darcy.  Darcy dropped her bag, lips twitching up in a small grin at the cursing from their kidnappers.

“God damnit.  Becker, grab those,” Asshole 2 growled from beside Jane.  The one called Becker picked them up, cursing under his breath.   _Hah, a minor victory, but I’ll take it._  Darcy reached out, gipping tightly to Jane's hand as they exited the airport. _We’ll be okay._

Outside, they sky was grey, the November air brisk.  A windowless van ( _perfect for creepers_ ) sat idling just at the curb.  One of the Assholes 3-5 opened the door, and Darcy’s stomach dropped. Inside, a sixth man was waiting in the driver’s seat. _Jesus, six guys to kidnap a physicist? We're not the fucking Hulk.  What the fuck is going on here?_ The men shoved them into the van, the door slamming shut as the last of the assholes got in.  Darcy and Jane were unceremoniously shoved past two ragged bench seats and onto a metal plate in the rear of the van.  Asshole 2 pushed them flat to the floor.

“Well, we didn’t plan for two of you, so you’ll have to share,” he said.  As her eyes adjusted, Darcy could see that the metal plate had been welded to the floor, a chain anchor welded to that, and pair of handcuffs secured by the anchor.   _Okay, so apparently these guys did think Jane was the Hulk._  Asshole 2 quickly snapped one cuff around Darcy’s left wrist, and the other on Jane’s right.

“Okay, they’re secured, let’s go,” Asshole 2 yelled.  The van peeled away from the curb, an eruption of car horns sounding as the van swerved into traffic.   _Oh yeah, really subtle._  As the van rounded a corner, Darcy felt a sharp pain in her neck.  

“What, did you guys fucking weaponize bees or something?”

“What did you give her?” Jane yelled, slapping at Asshole 2 as he knelt over her.

“Half of what you were supposed to get. Now hold still!”

Darcy’s world was spinning, a sneak attack of vertigo, as Asshole 2 advanced on Jane with a syringe.

“You guys are douche bags,” Darcy muttered.  She reached over and started trying to slap at the Asshole, but hand-eye coordination was suddenly harder than… a really hard thing.

“Hold still, Dr. Foster,” the Asshole said.  

“Hey, you need to disinfect that first!  What is wrong with you people?” Jane yelled.

As Darcy fought to say coherent, she offered one last comment: “Fuckin’ nazis.”

* * *

Skurge followed Happy through the halls of the Avenger’s facility, his hands clenched into tight fists.  His mind was clear in a way he hadn't felt since facing Hela’s army, a sense of purpose granting a welcome and calm clarity.  Happy led him into the cavernous structure that held Stark’s many aircraft, then directly onto a smaller craft. Like most places in this realm, Skurge had to duck his head to fit inside the cramped space.

Once inside, his eyes immediately adjusted to the dark interior as the ramp closed behind them.  A dark-skinned pilot sat at the front of the craft, while behind the pilot’s seat, numerous screens were alight, showing images of different roads.  Dressed in his armor, Stark stood in front of a wall of blue, glowing shapes, his hands sweeping and poking at them, manipulating the light as though by magic.

“Okay, Stretch,” Stark said, focused on his screens. “We'll be hitting top speed as soon as we get in the air, so you might want to take a seat.”

Skurge looked over at Happy, who had strapped himself into an empty seat.  He could hear the whine of the engines as the craft powered up and began rolling out of the building. Then he looked back at Stark and his screens.  The central screen showed a grainy still image of Darcy and Jane being led away by two strange men. His eyes noted each and every detail of Darcy’s image, including the fear in her wide eyes.  His breath caught in his chest; he couldn’t look away.  That layer of calm started to fade away, replaced by terror.   _Please, not her.  Anyone but her.  Please._  Skurge reached up and gripped the railing along the roof of the aircraft.

“Or you could just do that,” Stark muttered, shaking his head. Skurge felt the craft lift off, gaining speed in the air so quickly that his heart leapt into his throat.

Stark moved his hand, the screen changing to show the inside of a large building filled with quickly-moving people. “This is from the airport, almost an hour ago.”  

Skurge squeezed the railing as a screen image was enlarged.  Two men had approached the group, speaking to Jane.  He could only watch, stomach knotted in fear, as Darcy had stepped forward before she and Jane were ushered away.

“An employee called it in as soon as those guys showed up. I ran the names they gave, and they were bogus; then I ran them through facial recognition, and they're ex-Shield.  They could be HYDRA or just mercenaries; there are a number of unappealing groups interested in Foster’s research.”

He hardly heard Stark’s words, many of them meaningless; instead, Skurge watched the screen.  When Darcy looked back, one of the men grabbed her.  Skurge could see the fear and discomfort in Darcy’s form as the two women were dragged away, and he saw Darcy flinch in pain.  Rage and fear surged within him, and the rail in his hand bent, moaning before ripping apart with a shriek.

Stark stilled and slowly turned, eyes wide. “Uh, let's try to avoid property damage for now, okay, Stretch?  At least until we find them, then feel free to smash away.  That’s why I brought you; I’m short a couple heavy hitters right now.”  He didn't wait for a response before he turned away.

“Mr. Stark, I've tracked the van to a high-traffic industrial complex in Staten Island.”  Skurge recognized the mechanical voice, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Mr. Stark’s “artificial intelligence.”   _I still do not understand what that is._

“Surveillance cameras?” Happy asked.

“Entrances and exits only, I’m afraid.”

“Shit,” Stark said.  “Okay, keep scanning, F.R.I.D.A.Y.  Rhodey—.”

“On it, Tony.  F.R.I.D.A.Y. gave me the coordinates, we’ll be there in five minutes.”  

* * *

Once the Assholes threw a tarp over the two of them, it got dark and boring.  Darcy found herself drifting in an out of consciousness, fighting to stay awake.  

“Jane.”

“This sucks,” Jane grumbled.

“Yeah.  Can’ keep my eyes open.”

“Need a song.”

“Or coffee.”

The women fell silent, but after a few minutes, Jane began to sing.

_“Her name is Yoshimi_

_She's a black belt in karate”._

“Oh yay,” Darcy tried to clap, only to be stymied by the handcuff on her wrist. She rolled towards Jane, leaning her head on her shoulder.  “Love Yoshimi.”

Darcy quickly joined in, warbling along with Jane’s sleepy soprano.

“ _Working for the city_

_She has to discipline her body_

_‘Cause she knows that it's demanding_

_To defeat those evil machines."_

“What the fuck are they singing?” one of the Assholes asked.

_“I_ _know she can beat them_

_Oh Yoshimi they don't believe me_

_But you won't let those robots eat me_

_Yoshimi they don't believe me_

_But you won't let those robots defeat me_ _….”_

* * *

At some point during the song, they must have drifted off to sleep, because Darcy awoke to the tarp being pulled off them.

“ — know the plan,” someone was saying, “so get going.  Becker, help me move them.”

Darcy felt hands on her wrist and tried to pull away, only to have a metal cuff dig into her skin.

“Shit, she’s waking up.”

“Well the dose was calculated to knock out Foster, not two people. At least they're compliant.”

Arms lifted her, the world lurching as her head dropped back.  She heard another door open before she was dropped on the floor, vibrating as an engine rumbled.   _Another van?_ Something soft brushed against her, and she heard an angry growl (Jane’s “leave me alone, I’m sleeping” noise).  The world darkened as a tarp was dropped on them once again. The doors behind them slammed, and the van began to move.

“Darcy?” Jane's whisper seemed exceedingly loud despite the van’s rumble.  As the sedative in her system dragged her back to sleep, Darcy’s last thought was: _at least Jane’s here._

* * *

As the aircraft lowered to the street, F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke.

“Sir, we have a problem.  The van hasn't come out of the section it entered, but five vans of identical make and color exited that same section. I went back through the surveillance footage, and all six vans arrived on site this morning at the same time.”

“Decoys?”

“I believe so, Sir.”

As soon as the ramp lowered, Skurge strode out of the aircraft.  The area stank of chemicals and filth, too much to easily track her scent.  He hurried to the nearest building.

“Hey, Stretch, wait up!” Stark yelled.  “What are you doing?”

Skurge could hear the whine of Stark’s armor taking flight, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he leapt onto the rooftop in one jump, eyes sweeping the buildings for any sign of activity.

 _Nothing._ Skurge held his breath and shut his eyes, listening. He could hear thousands of cars and countless people speaking in thousands of conversations.  But no voice carried the pitch or cadence he sought.

_Please, Darcy, let me hear you._

* * *

The van lurched to the right as it turned, rolling Darcy onto her back.  

“Shit!  The camera at the warehouse just picked up Iron Man!” Bossy Asshole yelled.  

“Fuck!”

“No you idiot, don’t speed up! We have decoys for a reason, Becker!”

“How the fuck did they find the warehouse so fast?” Becker’s voice sounded strangled.

“It doesn’t matter!  They don’t know which van to follow so just calm the fuck down!”

“Jane,” Darcy whispered.

“Where are we?” she slurred.

“I dunno, but Iron Man is looking for us.”

“Good.  Hope he beats the crap outta ‘em.”

“Me, too.”

They were silent for a few minutes until Jane spoke again.  “This is so boring.  I mean, I'd rather be hanging out with Church.”

Darcy snickered. “Seriously.”

“I’m serious! I can feel my brain turning into mush!  I’m so bored!”

“Me too. I mean, at first I was afraid.” Darcy paused for a second before giggling.  “I was petrified. Kept think I could never live without you by my side.”

Jane cackled before she started singing.

_“But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong_

_And I grew strong and I learned how to get along!”_

* * *

 He could hear everything, but nothing sounded like her.  Behind him, he heard the quiet slide of metallic plates shifting as Stark landed in his suit.  

“Jesus, you’re fast,” he said.

Skurge ignored him, focused.  

“ _Oh no not I, I will survive._ ”

His heart nearly stopped in his chest, a wave of relief crashing over him.  It was the same song he’d heard her sing in Antarctica, right before she found him.  It was Darcy’s voice, along with another. _Jane?_  Skurge opened his eyes and ran in the direction of their voices.  He reached the edge of the roof and jumped to the next, the buildings around him blurring as he sped from roof to roof.

“This way!” he yelled.

“What is it?” Stark yelled.  

As he ran, he could hear Stark flying into the air above him.  

“Hey, Stretch, where are you going?”

“I can hear them!”

“Hear them?”

The buildings ended, opening onto a wide road filled with slow-moving cars.  Skurge jumped to the ground, only vaguely aware of the stone cracking under his feet.  He could still hear both of the women singing, their voices moving towards a large, grey bridge on a raised road.  He broke into a sprint, running between cars.  When he reached the raised road, he leapt onto it.  Horns sounded behind him, as well as the screeching of the vehicles and angry shouting.  But he ignored it all and chased the sound of their voices.

* * *

 Darcy and Jane fell silent as horns started blaring behind them.

“What the fuck?” The driver Asshole shouted.  

“What now?”

“Some dude is just running up the middle of highway.”

“What?”

“Seriously, some dude is just running up the road, and he’s really fucking fast.”

“Probably some fucking meth head,” Bossy Asshole muttered. Darcy heard the soft whirring of an automatic window rolling down.  “Fucking Staten Island, full of— JESUS CHRIST!”

“What is it?” Driver asshole asked.

“That guy is really fucking huge, and he looks really fucking pissed!”

“Holy shit, he’s getting closer!”

“Just calm down, I’m sure he’s not after us.”

“Jesus, that bald son of a bitch is fast.”

“He’s bald? Oh, is he, like, really tall? Does he have tattoos on his head?” Darcy yelled.

“You know this guy?!” Bossy Asshole’s voice was high.

Jane started cheering.  “Hah! Mercutio to the rescue!  He’s gonna Hulk smash you!” she crowed.

“His name’s Skurge, Jane!” Darcy corrected.

“Right.  Yeah, go Skurge, wooo!”

From the front of the van, Bossy Asshole started screaming.  “Becker, go faster!”

“You told me not to speed!”

“Just fucking speed up!”

* * *

Skurge could hear the men arguing and yelling at Darcy as the vehicle sped up.  He pushed himself to run faster when two strong hands gripped him under his arms.

“Need a lift?” Stark asked.  He lifted Skurge into the air, speeding forward.  “Where are they?”

“In the large, gray vehicle!” he roared over the wind whipping past him.

“Got it!” Stark was silent for a moment before speaking again.  “F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirmed it’s one of the five vans.  Want me to drop you on it?”  

“In front of it!”  

Squeals sounded behind them as the vehicles stopped.   _Perhaps the sight of Stark flying isn’t all too common._  The vehicle holding Darcy was swerving around other cars as Stark flew over it.

“Here, Stark!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, whatever you say, Stretch!”

Skurge fell through the air and crashed onto the road below.  He quickly turned around and could see the van bearing down on him.  He drove his fist into the road, clenching the metal running through it, and braced himself.

* * *

“What the fuck?” One of the men shrieked, voice too high pitched to identify.

“Shit, hang on!” the other yelled.

Before Darcy or Jane could ask, the van stopped dead, accompanied by the sound of crumpling metal.  Darcy and Jane slid forward, stopped by the seating bench just in front of them.   _That’s gonna bruise._  In the ensuing quiet, they struggled to their knees and pulled the tarp away.  When they finally looked out of what remained of the windshield, they could see that the front had been smashed, the van stopped dead in the middle of the road.   _Bridge,_ Darcy amended as she glanced out the back window.  She couldn’t see Skurge.  

“Holy fuck,” Jane muttered.

“What, Jane?”  Darcy turned and followed Jane’s gaze back to the front. Skurge stood there, extracting himself from the metal that had crumpled around him like tissue paper.  And he looked really, really, fucking angry.

“That shouldn’t be so hot,” Darcy mumbled.

“Oh, shit,” Driver Asshole whimpered.

“Fuck!” Asshole 2 started moving, pulling out a gun.   _Oh, shit!_

Darcy watched as Skurge stalked around to the driver’s side door.

“Skurge, look out!” she screamed.  The gun fired as Skurge ripped the door off of the van.  Asshole 2 kept firing, the crack of the weapon loud in the small van.  Darcy could only watch in horror, then relief, as Skurge kept moving and yanked the driver out of the car.   _Holy fuck balls, I think he’s bulletproof._ Driver Asshole started screaming, his voice falling silent with a sudden crunching sound.

Asshole 2 kept firing, but then his gun went silent with an ominous click. Darcy could only watch, eyes agog and jaw dropped as he struggled to get out of his seat and into the back.  Skurge caught him by the leg and dragged him between the seats and out the driver’s side door.  

“Gross, I think I just heard his hip dislocate,” Jane said, hushed.

As soon as Asshole 2 was out of the car, they could hear him screaming, could hear the sound of fists hitting flesh as Skurge rounded the vehicle.  Asshole 2 was still cursing, though sounding rather out of breath, when something hit the side panel of the van with a loud thunk.

* * *

The man, though injured, kept striking him.  His fists landed like snowflakes, but the yelling quickly grew tiresome.  Skurge slammed the man into the side of the vehicle, rendering him unconscious, then dropped him to the ground.   When he reached the back of the van, the windows were shaded, but his eyes still saw Darcy - and Jane - clearly.  All of the tension in his body rushed out in one breath, and he felt almost weak with relief.

He pulled at the door’s handle, only to find it locked.  Rage flared and he dug his fingers into the metal and pulled the door open.  Darcy and Jane blinked at the sudden light, and their eyes seemed hazy, pupils wide as they stared at him.

Skurge cleared his throat.  “Are you hurt?”

His words drew Darcy out of her thoughts.  “We’re cool.  I mean, we’re kinda bruised up and I really have to pee, and I could totally go for some food right now.”

Jane made small humming sound.  “Yeah, food.”

They seemed strange, somewhat out of sorts.  Darcy tried to stand, only to be held in place by a chain on her wrist.  Skurge glowered down at it, quickly finding the matching end on Jane’s wrist.  He reached out and wrapped a hand around each end before firmly pulling.  With a quiet snap, the chain broke.  Darcy and Jane looked down at their wrists, then back at him before clambering out of the van and into the sunlight.  Darcy stretched, her eyes traveling over Skurge.  In truth, Skurge hadn’t much considered his Midgardian garb, but as she surveyed him, he felt underdressed in what Happy referred to as “shorts and a tee shirt.” As Stark's aircraft landed, Darcy winked at him.  “Nice legs.”

As Darcy and Jane boarded the craft, Skurge felt himself blush.

* * *

When Darcy woke up, she was leaning against Skurge in the dark.  She looked around, seeing Jane strapped in on the other side of the plane, next to Happy Hogan. _Well, I don’t feel like singing The Flaming Lips, so I guess I’m not drugged anymore._  Darcy frowned, trying to remember how she got on the quinjet, but her memories were murky.   _Okay, I remember the badass rescue, getting on the quinjet, getting checked out by a doctor, then nothing._  She looked up at Skurge.

“Where am I?”

“Aboard one of Stark’s aircraft.  We are taking you to a place called ‘Cherry Springs.’”

“Cool, cool.  Was I in a hospital?”

“Yes; the healer tested your blood, and said the both of you would soon be fine.  Then you fell asleep.”

“So you carried me back to the plane?”

Skurge grinned sheepishly.  “I didn’t care to awaken you,” he admitted.

_How the fuck can someone so huge be so adorable?_

“Really?  Because I am starting to get the impression that you just like to carry me around.”

Skurge smiled broadly, his dimples appearing.  “That is true.”

“That is adorable,” she joked.  “Also, thanks for the epic rescue.”

“Without Stark, I would never have found you.” Skurge looked away, frowning.  “I was afraid we never would.”

When he looked back, his eyes locked onto Darcy’s, a vaguely haunted look in their depths.

“Hey, we’re fine.  You found us,” Darcy soothed, reaching out to take his hand.

“I almost didn’t,”  Skurge gripped her fingers tightly, clutching at her as though terrified that Darcy would disappear.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and held her close.  He dropped a soft kiss to the crown of Darcy’s head.  “I missed you so much, Darcy.”

Darcy’s stomach exploded with butterflies, the echoes of fear lingering as she smiled.

A new voice interrupted.  “Sorry to break in here, but I do need to speak with you.”

Darcy’s face flamed as she turned and faced Happy Hogan.

“Oh, hey.  What do you need to know?”

“In the hospital, you were both pretty out of it, but neither of you remembered them saying anything about who they were working for. What about now?”

Darcy stared at the floor, thinking.  “I really don’t, sorry.  I was so out of it.”

Happy smiled.  “That’s fine.  What about you, Dr. Foster?”

Jane had her thinking frown on.  “They mentioned that someone was paying them to get me, but they never said who.  Sorry.”

Happy smiled.  “Not a problem, Dr. Foster.  There are a lot of groups interested in your research, so you’re getting a bodyguard.”

“A bodyguard? No. Those guys are the worst,” Darcy groaned.

Happy let out a small laugh.  “Well, I think you’ll like this one.”

“Who? Oh, is it Daniel.”

“No. We decided someone more bulletproof would be the best.”

Darcy and Jane looked at each other.  “Bulletproof?” Jane echoed.

* * *

After the SUVs rounded the final curve of the driveway, the temporary housing condos were finally visible.  Darcy could see her car, a 2004 Honda, parked in front of her and Jane’s unit, the condo lit up from the inside.  As soon as the car stopped, Darcy jumped out, running up the walkway.  The front door opened, revealing her Mom.

“Darcy!”

Inside the house, Darcy could hear barking.   _Baker!_  After the horrible day she’d had, all Darcy wanted was a hug.  Rachel Lewis squeezed her tight, rocking slightly.    She soon felt two small feet started pawing at her leg.

“Oh my Darcy-Girl, I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too, Mom. I missed you.”  

As Darcy stepped back, Rachel’s eyes widened in shock.

“Oh my god, baby, what happened?”  

Darcy moved firther back, but Rachel just stared at her, a look of abject horror on her face.  Darcy reached up, touching her face, wincing as she touched a bruise.  “Eh, just your standard attempted kidnapping of Jane’s brain.”

Darcy bent over, picking up Baker.

“I think technically it was more of a thwarted kidnapping than attempted kidnapping,” Jane argued.

As her mom paled, Darcy winced.  “It sucked, but we have our own bodyguard now!”  

“Sorry, Darcy, but here you go,” Happy interrupted, handing Darcy a set of keys.  “I’ll see you around.”

As Happy llwalked away, he nodded at Jane, then got in the passenger side of the other SUV.  As it drove away, Rachel spoke.

“So is Tony Stark just handing out cars, now?”

“Oh no, it’s just that our bodyguard probably couldn’t fit in my car.”

She turned to introduce Skurge to her Mom, but he wasn’t there.  Darcy could see him sitting in the SUV, watching them pensively.  Rolling her eyes, Darcy waved him over.  As the door opened and he stepped out, Rachel gasped.

“We are gonna need a bigger turkey.”


	3. Chapter 3

This is just a quick filler chapter with some character info. The next chapter is in the final stages of editing and should be up in the next day or two. But in the meantime, people!!!! Rachel Lewis, bad ass Mom and small business owner looks like Linda Edelstein

 

 

Also, Rachel's parents. They aren't in the next chapter, but the one after, so I thought I'd introduce you.

 

Hannah Lewis is based on Madeline Kahn, an amazing and hilarious woman.  Some of her character traits from film and t.v. will make an appearance. She unfortunately died some time ago. So just imagine her a bit older, but still awesome.

 

And as Isaac Lewis, Richard Beltzer.  Because Darcy and Rachel got their sarcasm somewhere.

 

Also, the chapter where you meet the grandparents is when we start dealing more with Darcy's Jewish heritage. I am a white, California athiest who was raised protestant. So I just need someone willing to answer random questions and tell me if I'm overusing Yiddish and stuff. Help me, readers, you are my only hope.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group gets settled into their new house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, five million thank-yous to Beetle, the ultimate and best beta and cheerleader a gal could have.
> 
> Also, this is where the story gets a touch more adult/mature, but it's all solo stuff.

Baker’s confused but questioning growls awoke Darcy.  She lay in bed for a second; trying to get her bearings.   _ Where am I?   _ The first things she noted were a faint glow of light from her bedroom window and Baker wriggling under the duvet.   _ Right, Pennsylvania.   _ Darcy pushed the bedding back, revealing her dog.  Baker turned and looked at her, restlessly shifting from foot to foot before rushing up to lick at her cheek.

“Ew, Baker; no face kisses, remember?”

Baker didn’t respond, and instead stood at the edge of the bed, making that same confused, petulant growl.  Darcy’s Mom hadn’t heard him, judging by the snores from the air mattress at the foot the bed.

“Need to pee, buddy?”

The dog let out an affirmative “wuff,” dancing in a circle.  With a groan, Darcy got out of bed.   _ I want marry this mattress.  When Stark furnishes an condo, he does it right.   _ She ached just about everywhere, but the pain was manageable.   _ At least I don’t need crutches.  Stupid crutches. _  Darcy dug through a suitcase, pulling out a hoodie and yanking it on.  She was immediately surrounded by the stale scent of the research station’s air.  

Darcy picked Baker up and left her room, slowly navigating the dark house.  When she made it downstairs, she crept into the living room, checking on Skurge.   _ Or checking out - shut up, brain! _  He had claimed the floor in front of the couch, but the blankets were thrown back and the space was empty.   _ Hey, even space people have to pee _ , she reasoned.  She turned, walking into the kitchen, and jumped. Skurge sat at the kitchen table, still as a statue, his eyes locked onto her.

“Oye!”  Darcy paused, pressing her hand over her pounding heart.  “Dude, you need to make noise or something! Scared the crap outta me.” As she calmed, Darcy took a breath. 

She couldn’t see him in the dark without her glasses; but something about him seemed pensive.  “Can’t sleep?”

His eyes were studying her face, intent, before he looked down at his hands.  “No.  My mind is… full.”

“Wanna talk about it?” 

He shook his head.  “No, I am fine.”

He said nothing more, the quiet growing between them.  Clearing her throat, Darcy nodded and went out the back door in the kitchen.  She went down the few steps from the door and set Baker on the lawn.  He dashed across the grass, spinning in circles as he went.  Darcy laughed; she’d forgotten just how much he liked to go in circles.  Shaking her head, she went back inside.  The longer she was awake, the worse her aches got.   _ And I have no idea where the ibuprofen is.  Fuck a duck. _

“So,  _ Skurge _ ,” she started, dropping her voice into a growl for his name.  “I don’t suppose you know where my mom stashed her purse?”  

Skurge stood, frowning.  “You don’t like my name?” he asked as he circled the kitchen table and lifted Rachel’s purse from a chair.

“Oh, awesome. Mom is always super prepared, so she always has pain killers.”

“You’re in pain?”

“Eh,” she shrugged.  “Not so much, just kinda sore and achy.”  _ Because you stopped a freakin’ van with your body and I went crashing into a seat. _  She kept the comment to herself;  _ he’ll just feel bad if I tell him _ . 

Darcy dug through her Mom’s purse, finding the travel container of Advil.  She took out two pills, then put the container back.   _ Okay, glasses, glasses.  Or mugs. Just, anything. _  Darcy opened the cupboards, but they were all empty.   _ Crap. _  She opened the fridge and found a half empty bottle of water.  She swallowed down the pills, the water surprisingly refreshing as she finished off the bottle.   _ Guess I was thirstier than I thought. _  Darcy looked under the sink, trying to find the recycling.   _ Fuck it, I’ll figure it out in the morning. _  She set the bottle on the counter, then paused.   _ Wait a minute…. _

“Did you ask me a question?” she asked, turning to face Skurge.

He hesitated, then nodded.  “My name.  You don’t like it?”

_ Good one, Lewis, insult the dude’s freaking name.  Crap on a cracker. _

“Oh, it just, well, kinda makes it sound like you  _ really _ pissed off your parents,” she joked.  “But at least they didn’t name you Sue.”

She grinned, but he stared at her blankly.

“It’s this song about a guy whose dad gives him a girl’s name to toughen him up.  But, no, your name just sounds like a battle cry, like I should shake my fist in the sky and yell ‘ _ Skurge! _ ’ before charging into battle and slaying enemies.” 

Skurge stared at her in silence, face unreadable in the dark of the room.

She could feel her face flushing, her blush extending up to the tips of her ears.   _ And I sound like a idiot.  Great.  For the love god, Lewis, shut the fuck up!   _ Darcy cleared her throat and looked away.   _ Maybe Baker’s ready to come in _ ….

“My father was stonemason,” Skurge blurted out quickly.  He paused, then seemed to shrink into himself. “That’s a lie.”

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up.  “Uh, I probably wouldn’t have figured that out. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I'm happy to listen.”

When he spoke, his voice was softer, kinder.  “Thank you.”  He fell silent once again, the quiet stretching out and awkward as they looked at each other. 

Outside, Baker started whining.   _ Oh, thank god.  _ Darcy rushed over and opened the door, Baker waiting patiently on the other side.

“Dude, you’re not supposed to go up steps, bud,” she admonished as she picked him up.  She closed and locked the door, then headed back to the staircase.   _ That’s enough embarrassment for one night. _

“I was a foundling.”  Skurge’s low voice was loud in the room.  “Skurge was the name given to me by my fellow soldiers.”

_ So Skurge is a nickname?  And what the fuck is a foundling?   _ Darcy looked at him, at his broad shoulders hunched over.  She walked back over, reaching out and wrapping her free arm around him, hugging him.  “Thank you for telling me.”  

He stilled for a moment, then let out a shuddering breath as he enfolded her in his arms.  He bent over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  They spent a silent moment simply enjoying the comfort of another person's touch. When Skurge finally spoke again, the voice was rough, as though his words were being dragged out across broken glass.

“I couldn’t sleep because I dreamt I was too late.  You were gone and I couldn't find you.”  

Darcy’s heart pounded, excitement flickering through her like a teenager who just spoke with her crush.   _ Don’t jump to conclusions, Lewis!  Friends worry about each other! _  Trying to calm herself, she added an extra squeeze to the hug. “It’s okay, you found me.  I’m safe.”

Skurge let out a shaky breath, his chest shuddering in a way that made Darcy’s heart hurt.  She pressed an apologetic kiss to his chest.  For a few moments, they clung to each other on the dark kitchen.  All too soon, Baker stretched and yawned loudly, drawing a chuckle from Skurge.  A second later, Darcy yawned as well.  Skurge slowly pulled his arms away and stepped back, but dropped one last kiss on her head. 

“You should sleep,” he rumbled out. 

Darcy yawned again.  “Yeah, time for bed. I’ll see you later.”  

“Good night, Darcy.”

A strange impulse struck Darcy, the same one she’d had after kissing the crap out of him.  She  reached out and gripped his hand, pulling it to her mouth.  She pressed a kiss against it, a small, gentle thing, though perhaps it did linger a bit too long before she walked away.  A random scene flashed through her imagination; of her kissing his fingertips, perhaps nipping the skin.  In a split second, she imagined the opening salvo for a seduction.  It was an image that sent shivers up her spine.  

She dropped his hand and quickly made her way back upstairs.  Once she was back in her room and under the blankets, Darcy grabbed her phone and looked up “foundling.”  She winced.  _ Nice one, Lewis. “Sounds like you pissed your parents off. _ ”

Darcy buried her face in her pillow and groaned.

* * *

 

Skurge lay on his back under the blankets, head pillowed on his crossed arms.  It was early, the sky still dark, but he couldn’t sleep.   _ I almost lost her, and she isn’t even mine _ .  He wouldn’t find sleep this night.   _ Not that it matters, I’ve gone far longer without sleep. _  Instead, all he could do was silently think.  And thinking of the work he’d done, of the mistakes he’d made past and present, was never kind.  So, he thought of his surroundings.

It was nice, this house, this area they were in.  The Avengers Facility had been filled with people and technology, a constant buzz he’d never been able to drown out or fully ignore.   _ Always on the edge of my hearing, never quiet, always humming. _  It had worn on him.  But this place was quiet, this house was quiet.   He could hear the heartbeats of the others throughout the house; beyond that, the heartbeats of the others living in the small attached houses.  If he focused, he could even hear the sounds of life from the research facility, though it was nothing more than a faint murmur.  It was soothing, peaceful.  Much quieter than the Avengers Facility, and far more peaceful than the soldier’s quarters.  Everything in the house smelled fresh and new, from the floors to the roof.  But then, in this realm, everything seemed so young and different from all he’d ever lived with.

He could hear Darcy sleeping upstairs, her soft breaths and sighs while sleeping.  It was soothing to hear her, to hear the sound of her heartbeat overlaid by the scent of her that was slowly permeating the house.  Her heartbeat, slow and steady, reminded him that she was safe.  Her heartbeat was comforting.  But her scent was another matter; he wanted to bury himself in her scent.  

The most evident layers of her scent were her cleansing products and scents.  They weren’t heavy or overpowering, but they melded delightfully with the earthy combination of her sweat and flesh that always seemed a bit sweet to his nose.  It could easily be addictive.   _ Particularly when she’s wet, when the scent of her slick is so strong in the air I can almost taste it. _

As it often did at night, his mind returned to that evening in Antarctica, to those kisses in the kitchen.  For no reason, he would often find himself buried in that memory, of the sweet whimpers and muted cries she made.  He could practically feel her fingers digging hungrily into his shoulders, her soft breasts against his chest.   _ How delicious she smelled.   _ Skurge shuddered on his blankets as he recalled just how thick her scent had been, a mouthwatering flavor he imagined would taste like the faint salt on her throat.   _ Just imagine how she’d taste on your tongue. _  His cock started getting hard just from that memory.

Clenching his jaw, he fought a moan.  By the realms he wanted her, more than he wanted to touch himself at that moment.  He stilled his breathing, listening; all of the women in the house were sleeping soundly, far from him.  Licking his lips, Skurge moved his hand beneath the blankets and inside his clothing.  As he squeezed his cock, drawing a ragged gasp from his lips, he gave in to his need.

_ I could have stripped her shirts, tasted her skin.  How tender are her breasts?  Could she come just from me sucking and touching them?  Perhaps she needs a man’s mouth between her thighs. _  Just the notion of tasting her quim had his hips twitching up toward his hand.  He adored using his mouth on a woman.  Feeling her shake and tremble, falling apart as he lapped up her taste.  He’d always hungered for the sound of woman begging him, needing  _ him _ ; it was a heady combination.  But Darcy….   _ She would be the sweetest of all.  I would taste her, suck at her until she asked me to stop, until my name was the only word she could say.  _  Skurge sucked  in a breath through his clenched teeth.  He was so hard, his cock leaking as he sped up his strokes.  

_ Would she be shy when I spread her legs open for me?  Would she hide her face, making tiny sounds as she broke apart?  Or would she be eager, the kind to pull my mouth tight to her flesh, demanding worship? _  He was panting, a shudder traveling from his head to his toes.   _ By the Norn, would she sit on my face, let me do as I wished?   _ He could only imagine how she would taste, the flutter of those delicate muscles around his tongue.   _ Perhaps she’d scream my name, beg me to stop while demanding more. _  With groan that echoed in his chest, he came, his hips raised as he continued to stroke his softening member.  He panted, enjoying the buzz under his skin.   _ Perhaps she would kiss you after, and ask you to stay. _

That thought chilled him, other older memories, unhappy memories of Amora floating to the surface of his mind.  He grimaced as he pulled his hand from his cock, kicking back the blankets.  Standing, he moved as quietly as he could, the dark as clear as day to him, and  entered the bathroom upstairs. Shame bubbled inside his chest as he washed his hands.   _ You are in her home, her mother is sleeping in this very house.   _ He wanted to destroy something, break something until the shame subsided.  But there was nothing. With a heavy sigh, he went back downstairs to lay on his blankets.  As he looked back up at the ceiling, he had only his thoughts for company.

Eventually, he heard one of the women in the house awaken.  By her breathing, it was Darcy’s mother.  Soon, he heard her stepping down the stairs, whispering to the dog.  Skurge sat up, looking at her; Rachel looked half-asleep, still dressed in her sleep clothes.  She quickly looked at him, then sat down on the cushioned chair beside the couch.  Baker sat on her lap, obediently raising his paws as Rachel dressed him in a sweater. 

_ What? _  “The dog requires clothing?” he asked.

Rachel smiled at him, but her eyes shrewdly assessed Skurge with a gaze like a general inspecting their troops.   _ Likely finding me unworthy of her daughter.  And rightfully so _ .  “Well, Baker is part rat terrier,” she said.  “They aren’t really made for the cold.”  She set  Baker on the ground, and he immediately ran for the front door, his feet sliding on the wood floor.

“He is not a very practical animal,” Skurge mused.  

Rachel stood and shrugged.  “His breed probably once was, but a lot of dog breeds have been overbred to be cute and tiny. So, they’re actually kind of useless, but he’s sweet nonetheless.  And he’s a pretty good guard dog.”  

Skurge frowned, arching an eyebrow. “I don't see how he could protect anyone.”

“Well, I don’t know if he could stop anyone, unless he tripped them.  But he’s damn good at raising the alarm.” 

He nodded, watching her as closely as she studied him.  “Do you always rise so early in the morning?” 

She grinned, and it was that same teasing smile her daughter often wore.  It was a grin that warmed him from the inside out.  “No. Usually I’m up earlier.”

Skurge felt his eyebrows climb higher, and she laughed.  “I own a bakery, so I’m usually up by four in the morning, sometimes earlier if I’ve got a busy day,”   she explained as she headed toward the front door. She pulled on her jacket and a pair of boots.  

He stood, watching her with curiosity.  “Where are you going?”

“Left the groceries in the car; it was cold enough last night, and I was tired after that drive.  So many crazy people driving around.”

“Can I help you?”

Rachel smiled at him. “That would be wonderful.” 

Skurge joined her at the door, where Rachel looked down at his bare feet and short pants.

“Shoes?” she asked.

_ Right, she think me Midgardian.   _ He shrugged.  “The cold doesn’t trouble me.”

Shaking her head, Rachel led him out to the small vehicle, which had a steel cart attached to it.  As she opened the very back of the car, she spoke.

“So, from what I gather, you saved my daughter and Jane; thank you.” 

Skurge watched silently as she then opened the rear door car, revealing several bags of food and boxes of personal items.  

“I had to help Darcy and Jane.  I cannot….” His voice felt a touch strangled at the remembered fear he'd felt at Darcy’s kidnapping.  He fell silent.    _ How do I tell her that just thinking of never seeing Darcy makes me feel sick, makes me feel as though a Frost Giant has plunged its fist inside me and torn out my heart?  Would she even care if she knew who I really was?   _ Instead of speaking, he quickly retrieved as much as he could carry, filling his arms until the car was nearly empty.  

She stared up at him, surprised.  “Damn.  I bet you can get the U-Haul unpacked in an hour.” 

In point of fact, it was indeed a quick task to unpack the car and trailer. In an hour, the kitchen area was filled with boxes and bags.  By that time, the sun had risen over the hills to the east, the frost on the grass and vehicles melting.  While  Rachel unpacked the food, she prepared coffee and bagels.  They ate as they worked, Darcy’s mother instructing Skurge on where to move the boxes. He was dividing Jane’s and Darcy’s boxes into two piles when Jane came downstairs, her eyes hardly open as she looked at him through her messy hair.    

“Good morning, Jane.  May I take your boxes into your room?” he asked, gesturing to Jane’s stack of boxes.

Jane grunted at him and waved her hand in his direction before shuffling into the kitchen.   Skurge let out a quiet laugh.   _ She is not a morning person. _

* * *

 

When Darcy woke up again, it was daylight. Just waking up to daylight seemed wrong after so many months in Antarctica, enough so that she felt out of sorts, as if she was still in a dream.    

“Mom?”  There was no answer.  She lifted the blankets, and found her bed dog-less.

With a groan, Darcy stood up and saw the air mattress was empty.   _ Guess it's time to get up.  _  She went over to her suitcase and pulled out her slippers; once she had them on, she went downstairs.  

Boxes were scattered throughout the living room, and Darcy found her Mom unpacking boxes in the kitchen, Baker watching her from his dog bed in the dining room.  Rachel had gotten pretty far, judging by the dented toaster sitting on the counter and the full pot of coffee waiting.

“Morning, Mom.”

Her mom turned and smiled.  “Good morning, baby.  How’d you sleep?”  

“Pretty good, except for Baker’s midnight pee break,” she said, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.  “But we were up pretty late last night; I shouldn't let him drink so much water right before bed.  And holy crap, I sound like you.”

Rachel laughed and opened the fridge, pulling out some bagels and cream cheese.

“What the heck? We didn’t have food in there last night, did we?”

Darcy’s Mom laughed again. “No, but I hit Costco before I left Syracuse yesterday.  By the time I got here, I was too tired to unload most of the stuff.  Skurge helped me this morning.” Rachel paused.  “Actually, he unloaded everything.  He’s a very strong man.  Also, very nice and polite. And quiet.”  Rachel stuck a bagel in the toaster, eyeing Darcy closely.

Darcy’s face flushed as she dropped her head to the counter.  _ Mom powers, activate! _

“What’s wrong, Darcy?”

Darcy made an unhappy moan against the stone countertop before sitting up.  “So, I kinda sorta insulted Skurge’s name, while simultaneously reminding him of the fact that he was apparently abandoned as a child.”

Rachel’s jaw dropped, her blue eyes wide.  “Wow, honey.  When you put your foot your mouth, you  _ really _ put your foot in your mouth.”

Groaning, Darcy dropped her head again, burying her face in her arms.  “Thank, Ma,” she mumbled.  She heard the sound of a cabinet opening, followed by the sound of liquid being poured.  

“Well, did you know he was an orphan?”

“Foundling.  And no, I didn’t.  I even had to google ‘foundling.’  So not only am I  _ really _ embarrassed, I also just feel bad for him.” 

“You can’t be responsible for what you didn’t know.”

“But I still feel bad.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a nice, caring person.  Anyways, speaking of Skurge, are you two dating?”

“I dunno.”   _ I knew that was coming. _  Darcy sat up, eagerly accepting the mug of coffee.  She took a sip.   _ A bit sweet with milk, just the way I like it. _  “I mean, there are feelings, but I don’t know what he wants.”

“Well, how long have you known each other?”

“Technically, it was five days down in Antarctica, before he had to come back.  And that was six weeks ago.”

“Well, have you dated, kissed… had sex?”

“Mom!”

“What?”  Her Mom met Darcy’s embarrassed gaze, steady and expectant.  

Darcy groaned again.   _ And I sound like Tina Belcher.  Great. _  “We hung out, had a couple kisses, and one  _ crazy _ hot make out session.  But we were legit stuck at the end of the world, so he was probably just bored.”

Rachel’s expectant gaze shifted into a hard stare.  “Darcy Marianna Lewis, you are a wonder— “

“Wonderful girl and any man would be lucky to have you,” Darcy finished for her.   _ We’ve had this conversation before _ .  She quickly changed the subject.  “So, where’s Jane?”

“Jane woke up early, wanted to check out her lab space, maybe drive around and see the area.  Skurge went with her.”

“Good.”  The bagel popped up from the toaster.  Rachel quickly plated it and handed it to Darcy, along with the container of cream cheese. 

As she started spreading the cream cheese, she paused.  “Did you make these?”

Rachel raised an unimpressed eyebrow.  “Would I give you anything else?”

“Of course not, because you are awesome.”

“So are you, honey.  Now, care to help me unpack  _ your _ stuff?”

* * *

 

It was lunch time when Jane returned.  The small scientist breezed in the front door, Skurge following closely and laden with several cloth grocery bags. Darcy stared at him as he deposited the lot on the dining table.  She wasn’t sure where he got the clothes (boots, jeans, and a navy blue peacoat) but it worked.  The jeans clung to his thighs, the peacoat emphasizing those deliciously broad shoulders.  _ Down girl! No jumping men when Mom is in the house! _

“Did you go shopping, Jane? Willingly?” Darcy asked, instead of launching herself at Skurge.  She valiantly tried to not watch as stripped out of his jacket.  She failed, silencing a whimper as the jacket was put away, leaving him in a long-sleeved tee shirt that didn’t help.   _ Okay seriously?!  Could they not find anything in the right size for him? _  The burgundy fabric of his shirt clung to the well-defined muscles of his torso, but stretched tight over his muscular chest and arms.   _ Sploosh. _

“Well, since your Mom hauled all our stuff down here, I figured I could do the work to supplement Thanksgiving dinner.”

Darcy returned her attention to her best friend.   _ Shopping the day before Thanksgiving?  _  She curled her lips in disgust.  “Ew. How terrible was the store?”

“Horrible.” Jane pulled out a bag of red licorice rope, tearing it open and pulling out a piece.  “But as it turns out, Skurge just isn’t just useful for lugging around heavy stuff and beating the shit out of would-be kidnappers; when he marches down a supermarket aisle, people move for him.”

Rachel came down the stairs, eyes widening at the sight of all the groceries.  “I know I mentioned maybe needing a bigger turkey, but that is a lot of food for four people, Janie.”

“Not really,” Jane said, shrugging.  “I’m not sure what we’re allowed to say, but I will say that Skurge has a  _ Thor-sized _ appetite.”

Rachel’s mouth dropped open into a silent “o” as she nodded.  “Well, that explains some things.”  She looked at Skurge, then blanched.  “Oh, my god, I only gave him a bagel for breakfast!  You must be starving!”

Rachel rushed into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge.

“It’s fine, Rachel,” Jane said. She grinned around the candy between her lips and pulled held up a plastic shopping bag.  “We got hoagies; three for us, and three for him.”

* * *

 

After a lunch that was mostly comprised of the three women watching Skurge steadily demolish his sandwiches, the rest of the day was spent in a rush of cooking preparation and unpacking in the kitchen.  He had little to contribute, but it was pleasant watching the women work together.  Rachel was the leader, doling out tasks for the younger women.  They spoke and talked, laughing while they worked.  It made something in his chest flare with warmth; particularly when Darcy looked up at him, her blue eyes happy.  She was dressed in loose clothing, her hair in a messy bun.  She was entirely unadorned, and she was still breathtaking.  He busied himself with moving boxes and items for Jane, but whenever Darcy was in view, his eyes would linger on her.  Even if she could never be his, just this friendship would be enough.

In was late afternoon when Darcy paused while chopping food and looked at the anxious dog whining on the floor.  He was dancing on his paws, making a displeased sound.

“I’m sorry, buddy.  Need your walk?” Baker barked and turned in a circle.  Darcy wiped her hands off.  

“I could walk him,” Skurge volunteered.

“That’s very nice of you, Skurge,” Rachel answered.  She paused, then eyed her daughter closely.  “But Darcy should go with you; I feel like you’re the kind of man who might walk too fast for a little dog.” 

“Mom—.”

“Go, Darcy.” With that command spoken, Rachel bumped her hip against Darcy’s, forcing her out of the kitchen.  

Darcy shook her head, but went to the front door to pull on shoes and a jacket before dressing Baker in his small sweater.  

“Don’t forget your coat.”  Darcy ordered.  “It’s pretty cold out, and even if it doesn’t bother you, it’ll look kinda weird if you don’t have a coat.” Skurge took his coat and pulled it on, watching as Darcy crouched down and put a harness on Baker.  

Outside, it was quiet, the air cold enough that their breath hung in the air.  The sun was preparing to set as Darcy began walking down the row of houses.  

“So,” she started.  “Is the research lab off the highway?” 

“No.  Well, it is, but this road connects to directly to the lab.  It is a short walk.” 

“Cool beans.  How long?  Baker isn’t up to doing a long walk yet.”  She looked up at him, her cheeks already turning pink in the cold air.  

Skurge wanted to press his hands to her face, warm her skin with his.  He shrugged instead.  “Less than five minutes.”

“Okay, let’s go that way.  It’ll give me a chance to do some recon on the down-low.”

Skurge wasn’t sure of the precise meaning of her words, but her could hear the levity in her voice, enough to make him smile.

“So, where’d you get the clothes?” she asked

“Do they not meet your approval?” he teased.  When he had returned with Jane, he had felt Darcy’s eyes on him, had heard the increase in her heart rate. He glanced down at her, finding a smile on her face.

“Eh, I was just wondering if you had to go to a mall or something.  Because the idea of you in a crowded shopping mall being helped by a sullen seventeen-year-old gives me joy.”

He barked out a laugh. “No, Stark’s… being, F.RI.D.A.Y., took my measurements and asked what clothing I would like.”

Darcy paused and scanned him with her eyes, her gaze slow and appreciative as she pursed her lips.  “Not bad.”

She smiled again and looked away, glancing down at the dog.  The walk was pleasant, quiet.  The majority of the houses on the street were like Darcy’s; small attached homes in long runs, though there were a few houses that sat on their own.  After a few short moments, the houses ended, leaving them on the road through the woods.  Ground lights turned on as they walked along the path.  They were both quiet, but it was a peaceful quiet.  Darcy kept looking around at the forest surrounding them, taking in the scenery with great interest.  And Skurge was content to watch her from the corner of his eyes.  

All too soon, they approached the low building and guard house.  Unlike the glass and steel monstrosity of the Avengers Facility, or the glittering spires of Asgaard, Skurge liked the look of this facility.  Built down into the ground instead of up, it looked modest.  Made of wood and stone, it felt like it belonged in this forest.  The guard, who had met Skurge earlier with Jane, simply nodded at him.  Darcy looked at the building, her nose wrinkled as she studied it.  It was an adorable wrinkle, one that made him smile while giving him the desire to kiss it each time it appeared.

“Wow.  I did not know Tony Stark could do subtle.” 

She looked at him, and all he could do was shrug.  “I like it,” he offered. 

Darcy smiled.  “Me too.  I mean, I don’t mind living in a city where there’s a lot to do, I grew up in Syracuse, lived in London.  I’m used to noise and people rushing around.  But it’s quiet here, peaceful.  I like it.” 

Warmth flared in his chest; he wanted to kiss her.  He wanted to taste her, hold her in his arms.  He wanted to hear her speak on any subject she wished.  Her eyes, so dark in the shadows of the trees, looked up at him with an expression he didn’t understand, but enjoyed.  It was soft, inviting, but happy.  He swallowed hard as he stared down at her, that want, that desire building so strong until he had to clench his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her.

She blinked, breaking the moment and turned back towards home.  _ Not my home. _  He gazed at her, rooted to the spot.  Darcy stopped and turned; she extended her hand.  

“Come on, Mercutio,” she said, her smile a sweet, shy thing, “let’s go home.” 

_ Home _ .  His breath caught, but he followed her command; in two steps he was beside her, her tiny hand clasping his.  As they walked along the empty road, she tangled her fingers with his.  Far sooner than he would have liked, they were... home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the next chapter we meet Darcy's grandparents, discuss Hanukkah, fun stuff like that. As mentioned in that last update, I would greatly appreciate if someone who knows a lot about Yiddish culture would be willing to answer some questions and just generally make sure I don't fuck up her grandparents. I would be mega grateful.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, all gold stars for beetle for cheering me on and beta'ing.
> 
> Also, HUGE thank you to flamesfallen for the info and advice she gave me about Ashkenazi Jewish culture (Yiddish only refers to the language, not the culture!).
> 
> And a million thanks to you awesome folks who always take the time to comment; it helps keep me going.

Skurge still wasn’t sure what the celebration of Thanksgiving was for.  To his mind, it seemed similar to an Asgardian feast day.  Yet the advertisements on television seemed to give it more meaning, while also trying to sell wares for the next holiday (which was about a fat man who looked like Odin but gave out gifts).

Jane had said it was a day for eating a feast with friends and family.  Rachel deemed it a feast day meant to reflect on the good fortune in their lives.  Darcy had started to explain the origin and history of the holiday, mentioning it’s basis on myth about religious freedom and this land’s natives, which was really just a lie, hiding the dark truth before pausing and saying, “it’s just really fucked up, and there are just too many layers to go into this quickly”, and then headed back into the kitchen to cook.

Since Skurge had little to offer regarding the food preparation, Jane and Darcy gave him instructions on the unpacking of their belongings.  The boxes were helpfully labeled in Darcy’s looping script, declaring their destination and contents.  The boxes for the main living areas, he even emptied.   There were pictures of Darcy and Jane at different ages.  But when the time came for the meal, they all sat around the table, a mountain of food spread out before them.

“Okay, Skurge, since this is your first Thanksgiving ever, first thing we Lewises do is say what we’re thankful for.  Darcy?”

Darcy’s eyes glanced toward him quickly before she picked up a glass of wine.  “Okay, um, I am thankful to _not_ be freezing my ass off in Antarctica.  I’m thankful that my Mom is here, and that we’re all safe, together.  And I’m thankful for new friends.”  She paused and looked over at him.  “Especially really cool ones who also save your ass.”

She raised her glass, Jane and Rachel doing the same.  At Rachel’s pointed glance, Skurge raised his.  They touched glasses, the glass clinking lightly, before each took a drink of wine and set their drinks down again.  Jane spoke next.

“I am thankful for awesome friends and family, for awesome new research facilities, and for my crutch-free health.”  The group repeated the raising of glasses, and then Rachel spoke.

“I am thankful for the health and safety of my family, the great employees I have at the bakery, having my daughter back on the same continent,” she paused, then looked at Skurge. “And for Skurge, who can protect my girls here when I can’t.”

Something sharp lodged in his throat as his chest flared with warmth.  He quickly raised his glass and took a drink.  When he lowered his glass, he saw them all looking at him; he shifted in his seat.  “Myself? I… I don’t know what to say.”  

“Just say what you’re thankful for, sweetie,” Rachel gently urged.  “It doesn’t have to be detailed or profound.”

 _Darcy, a new life, a chance to be someone else._ He settled on: “I am thankful to be here.”

* * *

The remainder of Thanksgiving passed in a blur of dinner, pie, board games, and then more pie.  By the end of the day, Darcy was stuffed and sleepy, and they were all in bed by ten p.m.  But early the next morning, Darcy’s woke up to her Mom shaking her shoulder.

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty, time to get up.”  

Darcy rolled onto her back, letting out an unhappy groan that transformed into refreshing yawn and full-body stretch.   _Roadtrip day.  Fuck._  “Okay, okay, time to get up,” she muttered.

Rachel left the room, the bathroom door closing just a few seconds later.  With another yawn and stretch, Darcy tossed off blankets.  Beside her, Baker raised his head, treating her to a baleful scowl.  He lay back down, intent on sleeping.  Shaking her head, she got out of bed and picked up the dog.  Quickly, she crossed the hallway and knocked on Jane’s door before cracking it open.  “Jane, Janie?  You decent?”

“‘M dressed.”

Darcy went over to Jane’s bed, lifting the blankets and putting Baker beside her. With a displeased wuff, Baker moved further under the covers and curled up behind Jane’s legs.

“Leaving now?” Jane mumbled.

“In a bit.”

“Time is it?”

“Almost six, so just go back to sleep.  My car keys are downstairs, just please remember to get someone to go with you if you leave, okay?”

“Not going anywhere.  Going over data today an’ eating turkey sandwiches.”

“Okay, sleep tight, Janie.”

“Drive carefully, Darce.”

“Will do.”

“And bring back rugelach.”

Darcy snickered.  “Flavor preference?”

“Yes.”

Shaking her head, Darcy left Jane’s room and headed downstairs in her pajamas. As soon as she reached the ground floor, Skurge stood and turned around, already dressed.  Tired and uncaffeinated, Darcy said nothing, merely nodding in his direction.  She went into the kitchen, and turned on the light over the stove, then started the coffee.  She heard Skurge follow behind her, hovering outside the kitchen area.  As the coffee started brewing, she pulled out some eggs, then popped a bagel in the toaster.

“Want some?” she asked, looking up at him.

He hesitated, then softly said, “If you do not mind.”

Perhaps it was the way he seemed afraid to ask for anything, but it honestly just made him more adorable, though it did break her heart a bit. _Because it's a genuine response.  Because he really expects me to take back my offer._

Darcy pulled a mixing bowl from the cupboard and began cracking eggs. “How many do you think you can eat?” she asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.  Skurge merely shrugged.   _Not helpful, cutie._

“Well, we’ll start with five for you and two bagels.  That should hold you over for a while, right?”

“Yes?”

Smiling, Darcy shook her head and started cooking.   _I’ll double the eggs._

* * *

The drive to Syracuse took much of the morning, the time spent with Darcy and Rachel discussing their family and listening to music.  While Darcy was Rachel’s only child, Rachel’s older sister, Rebekah, had four children and one grandchild.  Rachel’s younger brother, David, worked as an attorney in California, and had no children.  It was a strange thing to hear them speak of their family.

Family was something Skurge had never had, his prior discussions about family limited to his falsehoods and the occasional remarks of others.  It was a novelty to hear a full discussion of their family, one that did not involve serving as a father’s executioner before being imprisoned for several millennia.  There were problems within the Lewis family; Rachel felt David did not spend enough time with their parents, while Rebekah’s wife apparently had no desire to spend time with her own family.  There were complaints interspersed with praise, fondness and love mixed with exasperation, jokes mixed in with anger.

He should have had nothing to contribute, nothing of value to offer, but Rachel and Darcy included him.  He suspected Darcy had told her mother of his having no family, as Rachel never once asked about his.  Instead, she would tell him stories about the family or ask his opinion (“If you found out your daughter’s boyfriend cheated on her, would you invite him to dinner?”  “No.  I would kill him.” “Exactly!  Thank you!”).  But the closer they got to Syracuse, the more Rachel spoke of Darcy’s childhood.

“Darcy learned to ride a bike when she was seven—”

“Mom, no!”

“And one day she just disappeared.  I was terrified, but then we got a call and we found her three miles away at Ida Fisher’s house.  Ida was this girl who was always bullying Darcy and her best friend, Beth.  Darcy rode her bike all the way over to tell Ida she was a mean-butt and that if she didn’t stop teasing Beth, Darcy would punch her in the nose.”

Then:

“There was one time Darcy’s cousin Stephen had broken his leg.  He was only four, so Darcy and her Great Grandmother spent the day drawing on it with markers until it was the ugliest mix of every color known to man.”

And:

“Layelle was this sweet girl in her high school. She always wore a… what's it called? Head scarf?

“Hijab, Mom.”

“Right, hijab, thank you. Anyways, this little pissant— well, not little— kept tugging on her scarf; didn't pull it off just tugged on it when the teacher wasn't looking.  It pulled on her hair pins, yanked her hair, and just made her very uncomfortable.  So, the next time the teacher turned away, Darcy smacked that little bastard in the head with her textbook.  I was never prouder to be called into the principal’s office.”

* * *

By the time Darcy parked the SUV, her cheeks were bright pink with embarrassment and she wanted nothing more than to dissolve into the seat.  Skurge had taken the backseat; and even though he was too tall to see his face in the rearview mirror, she’d heard that asshole’s chuckles.   _Matchmaker Mom strikes again; she chose to_ _embarrass, it’s very effective_.  But at least they were finally there, at the bakery.   Her Mom owned the building, a small, three story brick structure, painted in a fading emerald.  The shop sat in the first floor, the front windows and door lit from the inside. A few people were inside, the smell of bread strong in the air, a scent more familiar to her than any other.In large, elegant letters, the front window read “Lewis Family Kosher Bakery - Since 1946.”

When they climbed out of the car, Skurge immediately retrieved Rachel's luggage as they headed to a small purple door on the side of the building.   They went up a narrow staircase, leading them to the second floor where the office and a small studio apartment sat.   _Ah, memories._  Rachel led them up the second flight of stairs and entered the first door they came across.   _Home_.  It was an apartment; a space Darcy had spent much of her life in and there were a million memories suddenly clamoring for her attention.  The brick walls were covered with pictures; some in color, some in black and white.  It was home in a way no other place would ever be.

Skurge looked around the apartment with a fascinated expression, hazel eyes taking in faded furniture.  He drifted closer to the pictures on the wall, eyes scanning them until they settled on one specifically.  Darcy moved closer, glancing at the photo that had captured his attention.  It was a black and white picture of a young couple, standing in front of the bakery, the woman’s stomach fat with child.  Their smiles were wide, joyful; excited and proud for a new life.   _For something good after so much shit._

“That’s my Great Grandma and Grandpa, David and Marianna Lewis, after they bought the bakery. It’s been in the family ever since,” she explained.

“Your grandparents ran it?” he asked, glancing down at Darcy.  She smiled up at him.

“Oh, hell no; my Grandma was a music teacher, and my Grandpa was a reporter for the Post-Standard.  No, my Great Aunt Helen helped the run the bakery for years, but my Mom always loved this place, loved helping her bake.   So, when David and Marianna retired, my Great Aunt took it over, with the understanding that my Mom would take over one day.  It’s been in the family for seventy years.”

Skurge stared at the photos, shaking his head in amazement.  “To an Asgardian, seventy years is….”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he murmured, nodding.  His hand drifted up to his stomach, resting there in an action that seemed entirely thoughtless. “But this, so much history in such a short time.  Humans live and die so quickly, but they do so much more with their lives,” he murmured.  

“And you say you’re no good with words,” she teased.  His eyes darted over to her before dropping to the floor, his cheeks pinking.   _There is nothing more adorable than a badass hot guy blushing._

As the two of them left the pictures to strip out of their coats, Darcy’s Mom made sandwiches. Stacked with meat and vegetables, they were tall, delicious, and familiar.  It made Darcy feel like she was a kid again, except now she didn’t try to pick out the vegetables.  But Skurge’s sandwich wash a feat of engineering, one that would make Dagwood jealous.  The sandwich was made with an entire loaf of rye bread, sliced in half and filled with meat.

As soon as Skurge took his first bite, his eyebrows shot up.  “I have never had bread like this.  It is very good,” he mumbled.  Darcy glanced up at her Mom, glad to see a fond smile on her.

“Thank you, though I’m sure it can’t compare to the food where you’re from,” Rachel said.

Skurge was on his second massive bite, shaking his head as his mouth worked.  When his mouth was empty, he spoke.  “I was on Asgard before Earth,” Skurge said, dropping his gaze back to his sandwich.  “But this tastes better.”

 _Damn, guess he’s going for some points here._  

“I doubt that,” Rachel said.

“No, it’s true.  Asgardian food is always the same; the breads are never different, the same grains always used, so it is the same taste; always.”

Darcy grimaced.  “Damn, never thought of that.  Guess they don’t have too much in the way of fusion cuisine.  That’s probably why Thor loved Earth food so much.”

Skurge didn’t answer, too busy devouring his sandwich.  

* * *

After they’d eaten lunch, Darcy’s mother had loaded the pair with baked goods, including a box of rugelach she’d had the staff save especially for Jane.  As they got in the vehicle, Darcy glanced over at him with a smile.  “So, up for meeting more of my family?”

 _If they are as kind as you, yes_.  “Yes.”

Shaking her head, she started the vehicle and drove it through the city.  Eventually, the buildings became less frequent, and she approached a group of matching houses.  The sign out front said: “Golden Meadows”, but there were no meadows that he could see.  Once Darcy parked, they got out, and Skurge followed her down a pathway.

“What is this place?”

“It’s a retirement community.  It’s designed to house old people when they can’t stay in their regular home because the bathrooms are too small or there are too many stairs or whatever. ‘Keep your loved ones safe, while giving them their freedom,’ that’s what the brochure said.”  

When they reached the house, Skurge could hear music playing inside, a woman’s soft, high voice singing along.  As Darcy raised her fist to rap at the door, she stilled, arm raised, eyes going wide.

“Oh crap.  I was mentally practicing introducing you and I realize that you don’t have a name other than ‘Skurge.’”

Icy dread filled him.   _Midgardians always have two names, I have no answer for this.  I don’t think ‘Executioner’ would be a good name to give. What name would I have?  I could give them Happy’s name— .  Wait, the documents; he gave me documents._

“I believe I may.” Skurge pulled out the leather money holder he’d been given the other day.  “Happy gave me this; it holds money, but he said that are also some documents in this,” he explained, thrusting the entire item at her.

Darcy accepted the money holder, opening it.  In the front, there was a small card with his face on it.  She quickly closed it and handed it back to him, smiling up at him.

“Okay, nice to meet you, Søren Kirchner.”

“Søren Kirchner,” he echoed, relieved.  He couldn’t recall how this name had been decided, but it served its purpose.  And it was pleasant to have a name that wasn’t so fearsome.  Darcy’s knock drew him back to the matter at hand, the music inside falling silent.

“Coming,” came a woman’s voice, high and musical.  The door opened, revealing older woman with reddish hair, a color Skurge suspected was not natural.  Her face, already bright and smiling, seemed to glow from within as she uttered a happy cry.  She threw her arms around Darcy, squeezing tightly and rocking back and forth, just as he’d seen Rachel do.  

“Oh, my Darcy, you’re back, and you’re safe and I’m just, well I’m just glad to see you.”

When she finally released Darcy, she turned to look at him.  Her jaw dropped.

“Oh- oh my, you are.... Goodness, you certainly are a tall one,” she said, finishing with a laugh.

Skurge blinked down at her, silent as his ears flamed red under her attention.  “Yes?” he offered.

“Bubbe, this is my friend, Søren Kirchner, but everyone just calls him Skurge.  Skurge, this is my grandmother, Hannah Lewis.”

“Wow, is it okay if I call you Søren, or would you prefer… Skurge?”  There was something disapproving in her voice as she stared up at him.  Skurge self-consciously brushed his hands over his short hair.  It had grown in, longer than he’d had it in centuries.  His marks were harder to see with his hair, but they were still visible.  His fearsome appearance had been part of his armor, though now it only served to terrify those he wished to befriend.

He opened his mouth to reply, but found he had no words to offer.  He shut his mouth and shrugged.  Something in the older woman’s gaze softened as she reached out and patted his arm.  “That’s okay, honey, I’ll just call you Skurge.  Very nice to meet you, I am Hannah Lewis, and welcome to my home.  Well, come in, come in, are you hungry?” she asked, ushering them inside.  Darcy quickly stripped off her jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall, so he did the same.

“We’re fine, Bubbe. We just ate.”  

Hannah waved off Darcy’s refusal, leading them into the living room.  “I’ll make you something.  Isaac, we have a visitor,” she called out.

As she headed into the kitchen, muttering to herself, an old man entered from another room.  He was tall and lean, his hair grey. He slowly entered, leaning on a cane.  Though he required the cane for support, he appeared hale and hearty.  He stopped in his tracks and arched an eyebrow, shrewd eyes studying Skurge from behind glasses.

“How’s the new knee, Zayde?” Darcy asked, moving close and dropping a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Not bad.  Who’s the super-sized goy, Darcy?”  

_Goy?_

“This is Søren; he’s a coworker, but everyone calls him Skurge.  Skurge, this is my grandfather, Isaac Lewis.”

Isaac extended his hand, Skurge quickly reciprocating and shaking the older man’s hand.  It was quick and firm, perfunctory as Isaac then turned to hug Darcy, freezing halfway.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” he asked, his voice loud in the quiet room.  He leaned closer to Darcy’s face.

“Face?  What?”  Hannah’s voice was muffled in the kitchen, but she rushed into the room.  “What about her face?”  

“Darcy, she’s got a ton of makeup on, but there’s some bruises there.  Who gave you those?” Moments ago, Isaac had seemed a laidback man, but now there was only tension and anger in his posture.

“I didn’t see those!”  Hannah looked about before picking up a pair of glasses from the table.  She put them on, peering at Darcy’s face.  “Bubbeleh, what happened?”

Hannah turned to glare at Skurge, her expression conveying the opinion that he was less than bilgesnipe shit. _They think I would hurt her?_  A part of him raged at the notion, while another understood their concern.  Isaac and Hannah looked angry, ready to tear him apart, their gazes filled with loathing.   _They hate me.  By the realms, they hate me._  His heart started to pound as the elderly couple glared up at him, face heating as adrenaline coursed through him.   _If they fight me, I can’t fight back.  But it probably wouldn’t even hurt... .   Except they look really angry.  They probably would find a way to hurt me._

“She was kidnapped,” he blurted out.

As her grandparents cried out in shock and dismay, Darcy glared at him.  “Why would you tell them that?”  

Facing her glare, he suddenly felt very small.  “They thought I’d hurt you,” he mumbled.  “I didn’t want them to think that.”

Her rage deflating as suddenly as it had appeared, Darcy sighed.  “You’re lucky you’re cute.”  

“Darcy, what happened?” Isaac asked.

With a loud groan, Darcy began her tale.

“So, you know how Jane’s brain is amazing?  Well, some dudes wanted it and tried to kidnap Jane, but I wouldn’t let ‘em, so they kidnapped me too, and then Skurge stopped the van, but we weren’t really secured so we just smacked into the seat and I’m pretty sure that Jane’s knee is responsible for my face.  Or maybe her elbow.”  At that, Hannah gasped, on hand flying to her chest.  

Darcy continued.  “They drugged us, so the memories are all kinda syrupy.  I just really remember us laughing at them because they were terrified of Skurge.”

When Darcy finished, Isaac gave Skurge a slow, appraising look.

“You kill ‘em?”

Skurge shook his head.

“Nah,” Darcy answered for him.  “But I’m pretty sure he crushed every bone in one guy’s face, and Jane thinks he dislocated the other guy’s hip.  And he knocked that guy out, so that asshole probably got a concussion, too.”

“Good job, kid,” Isaac replied, giving Skurge a crooked but approving smile.  Before Skurge could reply, Hannah flung her arms around his waist, squeezing tightly.  He froze.  Other than the few hugs given to him by Darcy, he could hardly recall the last time he’d been shown such affection.  With a small smile quirking his lips, he wrapped his arms around Hannah’s shoulders, and let her sway back and forth.

Eventually, Hannah released him, but grabbed his hand and pulled him into the kitchen.

“You’re a tall boy, so you can get the cookies down from the top shelf.”

Inside the small room, she pointed and gave orders.  As quickly as he could, Skurge followed her instructions, retrieving snacks and plates while she made coffee.

“So, where are you from originally?” she asked.

Once again, this small woman had disarmed him.   _I have no answer for this._  He wanted to call for Darcy; she was so much better with people.  Skurge swallowed hard.

“Here,” he replied, trying to sound convincing.

Hannah laughed again, the sound musical and bright.   _I believe Darcy inherited Hannah’s laugh_.   “No, honey,” she said.  “I meant Kirchner; what kind of name is that?”  

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

 _By the realms, why do they have to ask so many questions?  What was it Stark said, a good lie tells a truth?_ “No, it was the name given to me.  By the officials.”  

The smile on Hannah’s face faded, brow furrowing.  “Not your parents?”

“I was a foundling.”

For a split second, her face was frozen in surprise; at least until she attached herself to him again, squeezing as tightly as her small form could.

“For crying out loud, what’s taking so long?” Isaac asked as he hobbled into the kitchen.  He stopped and stared at them, eyebrow arched.  “What happened?”

Hannah didn’t let go as she spoke.  “He’s an orphan!”

Isaac raised both eyebrows before shaking his head, a strange smile on his face.

“Well, welcome to the family, kid.”

* * *

They got out of Syracuse before rush hour, giving them a relatively quiet drive home.  Once they cleared the city limits, Darcy glanced over, grinning at the bag of cookies in Skurge’s hands.

“So, I guess my Bubbe adopted you.”

His smile was slow, but fond.  “It is strange; she is younger than me, but so much wiser.”

Darcy shrugged.  “Our lives are relatively short; we gotta make ‘em count.”   She looked back over at him, only to see the smile on his face fall.  His scowl was aimed at the bag of cookies on his lap, but he was a thousand miles away.  She returned her attention to the road, waiting for him to speak.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him raise a hand and rest it on his stomach again.

“I don’t— .”  He took a deep breath before trying again.  When he spoke, the words sounded as though they were being dragged out over broken glass, syllable by syllable.  “Even if I protect you the for the rest of your days, your life will be so very short.”

Darcy’s stomach sank; he sounded heartbroken at the prospect.   _Guess he’s never had a friend before?  Yeah right, you want to be more than friends, Lewis.  Shut up, brain!_

The quiet remained, fraught with sadness.  Finally, Darcy turned up her music and began singing along.  After a couple of upbeat songs, the melancholic atmosphere seemed to lighten, but Darcy couldn’t banish the echo of just how sad he’d sounded.  

Hours later, when they finally parked at the curb in front of the condo, Darcy wanted to scream, eat some ice cream, and possibly hit Skurge with the car.   _Stupid hot guy giving me stupid feelings._

As she turned off the ignition, she took off her seat belt and reached for the door handle.  A hand on her wrist stayed her exit.  She looked at Skurge, the cab light stark on his face.  He was frowning, a deeply intent look on his face.  He looked over at her, eyes conveying more than she could parse, but there was trepidation, determination and hope mixed in.

“I have not always been a good person,” he finally said, his words falling like stones in the quiet.  “I- I know that you are very clever, and kind, and beautiful.  

_Holy shit, oh God._

“I shouldn’t ask but— .” He cut himself off, eyes darting away as he scrubbed a hand over his short hair.  “I want-  I want you, Darcy Lewis.”

It was like a bomb had gone off inside her brain; excitement and caution warring inside, while her internal voice was stuck on a loop of _Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god._  She wanted launch herself at him, but a worry lingered inside….

“What do you mean you want me?  How do you want me?” she asked, surprised at how steady her voice was.

“In whatever manner you’ll allow,” he answered simply, his gaze open and adoring.  

_What the fuck does that even mean?_

“But how do you want me?  As just a friend or as—,” Darcy cut herself off.  After sitting with the doors closed, the SUV’s interior lights turned off, leaving them in darkness.  The faint glow from the lights outside provided enough illumination for to see his profile.

“As a friend,” he started as he leaned closer, raising a hand to rest his fingertips on her cheek.  He moved his hand, letting his fingers brush across her lower lip.   _Fuck_.  “As a lover; however you will allow me.”

Her breath caught as her face flushed.  “So, you want to date?”

“Date?” His eyes were glued to his fingers on skin, watching her closely.  

“You know, spend time together but in a romantic relationship.”

His eyes darted up to hers, a deep smile blossoming across his face, those dimples curled in his beard.  “Yes, date.  I want to date you, Darcy Lewis.”

Leaning down, he lifted his hand to cradle her head, and pressed their lips together.

* * *

 

His heart was pounding as he kissed Darcy, his heart light and electrified in a way it had never been before.  Even with the taste of stale coffee and a hint of onions on her breath, it was the sweetest kiss he’d ever experienced; it was _real._ She wanted him for him, not what he could do or offer her.

At the back of his mind, worries whispered about his lies, about his past, about keeping her forever.  But focused on the soft lips under his, banishing those thoughts.  It was enough for the time being, and it was so easy to lose himself to her kiss.  Her mouth yielded so readily for his, inviting him, asking for more, before she pressed forward.  As he brushed his tongue against hers, she let out a small, content sigh that both aroused and heartened him.  He wanted to taste her, all of her.  He wanted to study her nude body without the distracting rush of lust, learn the texture of her skin without hurry, hear the story of each scar.  

She reached up and dragged her fingers through his beard, her chilled fingertips pressing to his cheeks.  The cold in the vehicle was of little consequence to him, but without the heater, it was rapidly growing too cold for Darcy.  He broke the kiss, but rested his head against hers.  He took her hands in his, trying to warm them. _So small_.

Darcy let out an unhappy whine.  “More kisses, Skurge, forthwith.”  He’d never much cared for his name, but hearing it from those lips, filled with such longing for him… it was as though he were being named anew.  

“We should go inside; you’re getting cold,” he whispered.  He heard her chuckle and opened his eyes.  She was grinning widely, a mischievous spark in her eyes, easily visible to him even in the dark.

“Oh, hot stuff, you shouldn’t have said that.”

His loud gasp of surprise filled the vehicle as she shoved her hands under his sweater.  But as much as he didn’t appreciate the chill of her skin, it was her skin on his.  He stared down at that wicked grin and smiled back in kind as he pressed his hands over hers through the sweater he wore.   

“Uh-oh, guess I’m in trouble?” she teased.  

“Yes,” he said, trying to school his voice into something stern. It was ruined by the smile he couldn’t force away.  “Your punishment shall be swift and merciless.”

Darcy threw her head back and laughed, the lilting sound warming him.

“So, a spanking, then?”  Her eyebrows danced up and down comically.  “Sounds fun.  Well, not really.  I mean, it’s probably a bit too early for the kink talk, but just for clarification, I don’t like spanking.”

He huffed out an amused laugh; he hadn’t thought she would like that sort of play, and though he would do it if she wished, the notion of hurting her in any fashion unsettled his stomach.  Of course, he’d never met someone who would admit such desires.   _Though there were those whispers about Loki._  Beneath his loose grip, her hands moved down, fingertips sliding lower on his stomach and easily drawing him out of his thoughts.  She paused, fingering the raised texture of the tattoos that crossed his stomach.

“What do they mean?” she asked, the teasing grin replaced by honest curiosity.  

 _Lie to her._  It wasn’t a pleasant topic, and it felt strange to discuss his past lovers with her.   _Lover; only one stayed._ Her eyes stared up at him, so trusting and kind.  So steadfast.   _Or I could tell her the truth._  He'd lied about it to so many for so long. But Darcy….

“I loved a woman once, when I was very young. After a fierce battle, I learned that it was all a lie to earn my service.  To remind myself that I was no longer a boy, of what I’d almost lost for no cause,” _Of what I thought I would never have._ “I marked myself.”

In the space of a single breath, of her eyes turned sad.  “I’m sorry that happened to you; that shouldn’t happen to anyone.” Darcy leaned toward him and arched up to press her mouth to his throat.  Her nose was cold against his skin, but the act still warmed him.  “But you were definitely right; it’s cold out as balls out here so let’s get inside.  I demand cuddles.”

As Darcy pulled away from him, he stared down at her, perplexed.  “Cuddles?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll love it.”

“Very well, I trust you Darcy Lewis." 

As they got out of the vehicle, he stilled.   "Wait, cold as what balls?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this piece is done, but I'm already working on the next story in the series, tentatively titled "A Manfriend Named Skurge"


End file.
